More Than a Passing Fancy
by DashDaring
Summary: When Tatara falls in love with a girl he'd planned on eating, things get a little complicated for the Aogiri leader. A story of loyalty and deceit, and the tragic attempt to bridge two worlds. Tatara x OC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 — Amon**

Today, Koutarou Amon arrived early at the CCG headquarters. There were dark, crescent pillows under his eyes, but that wasn't unusual. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten more than four hours of sleep. If he was lucky, like he was last night, he was able to go home and use his bed. Most of the time, he slept on the couch in the common area.

CCG's territory was slowly diminishing. Only wards one, two, and three were safe. People outside of that had to fend for themselves now.

"What did you need me here so early in the morning for?" Amon muttered, hardly glancing at Shinohara when he fell in stride with him.

They made their way through the atrium, beelining for the elevators.

Shinohara reached out to press the down button. "We found her. Tatara's lover."

* * *

Amon hadn't expected her to be human. The first thought that entered his mind was that perhaps Tatara was trying to produce a hybrid offspring. Looking at her through the tinted glass into the interrogation room, though, all Amon could see was a plain, demure girl with slightly doe-like eyes and a nose that was a little too wide for her face.

Hardly the woman Amon pictured someone like Tatara would want for the mother of his child. The normalcy she exuded was almost painful.

"We wanted you to begin the interrogation," Shinohara said, his arms folding.

"Why me?"

Shinohara winked. "Because you have the right effect on women."

_I wish that were true_, Amon thought. At age 31, he thought he'd be married by now. But all of the women he dated seemed to be repelled by his obsession with this job.

Amon flipped through the contents of Mika Hinamori's thin file. She'd never been convicted of a crime, not so much as a civil offense. Her family operated a traditional tea house —

_Conservative_, Amon immediately thought.

— And she had an older brother. She attended Tokyo University, graduating in the top ten percent of her class.

_Hardworking due to parental pressures, but not the least bit ambitious._

For three years out of college, she worked at a prestigious accounting firm before quitting to take care of the family business when her father fell ill.

Amon flipped the file shut.

"She's a valuable asset," Marude said, sweeping into the room. He'd been outside the door wrapping up a conversation over the phone. "Most likely she has information that could turn the tides of this war. I wanna know everything about Tatara from his vulnerabilities to whether he pisses standing up."

Amon brushed past Marude, irritated as it was without having him there shooting his mouth off. It was too early in the morning for his pompous bullshit.

He knocked twice to let Mika know he was coming in, then swung the door open.

Amon noticed her eyes following him as he closed the door and took a seat across from her.

"Mika, my name's Kotarou Amon. I'm an investigator here at CCG. I have a few questions to ask you."

She met his eyes. "What would you like to ask me?"

When she spoke, Amon felt like they were talking over a pot of tea, like the walls around them weren't barren and grey, but cream colored, warmed by the afternoon sun.

The power of normalcy.

She had her hands in front of her. They were small, delicate. Amon imagined Tatara would be able to crush them both in one hand. Her bones would be as brittle as matches in his grip.

"I'd like to ask about your boyfriend, a ghoul who goes by the name Tatara."

"What do you want to know about him?"

"Did you know he was a ghoul when you began dating him?"

Her gaze finally lowered, resting on the styrofoam cup of water before her. "Not at first."

"And when did you first begin suspecting he was a ghoul?"

"Suspect? I never did. He told me of his own volition."

Amon paused.

"Any idea why he'd tell you something that would put you at risk of the death penalty? Your ignorance was the only thing protecting you from the law."

It'd been an intentional dig at their relationship, a subtle suggestion that Tatara didn't value her safety enough to keep that information to himself. So Amon was slightly irritated that she looked back up and said without a ripple of annoyance in her voice, "We were getting serious, and he thought I had a right to know."

"Harboring a ghoul is illegal —"

Mika smiled beatifically. "Then it's a good thing I'm not harboring him." She glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, then met Amon's eyes once more and said, "It's puzzling you're investigating me given how busy the CCG _should_ be."

For the past few months now, the CCG had been undergoing a witch hunt trying to weed out ghoul sympathizers instead of trying to stop the ghoul advancement onto the last three wards. Amon didn't agree with their recent policies, and saw them as a waste of energy, especially since being a ghoul sympathizer, or even having a relationship with one for that matter, was not punishable by law.

So it was clear what Mika had said was _her_ intentional dig at _him _and the recent incompetencies of the CCG.

Even though he fought it, Amon felt the annoyance he'd wanted to inflict on Mika grate on his own nerves instead.

"How'd you meet Tatara?"

"He frequented our family's teahouse. He'd ask me to play Go with him."

"Is he any good at Go?"

"He sucks."

Tatara being Aogiri's lead tactician, Amon didn't believe that for a second. "Maybe because you're a two time national Go champion."

"That could have something to do with it."

Flipping through the meager pages of her file, Amon said, offhandedly, "I didn't know ghouls could drink tea."

Mika shrugged. "I didn't either."

"Have you slept with him yet?"

When he didn't hear a reply, Amon looked up from her file. "Did you really think we could go through this investigation without my asking? Ghoul hybrids are dangerous, and while the chance of conception and a successful birth is ridiculously low, we don't need another one-eye on our hands."

She leaned forward in her seat. Suddenly, her eyes were no longer very doe-like. "Let me make something very clear, Amon-san. This was a courtesy call, because CCG inspectors have been harassing my family's teahouse for some time now, and I wanted to clear the air. I came here alone without a lawyer as a sign of good faith. But as things stand, the CCG has no hold over me. I've done nothing wrong — the friend of a criminal isn't a criminal herself."

Amon wanted to massage his temples. Talented Go players were the worst. They were far-seeing, careful aggressors, skillful risk assessors, and Amon had underestimated her.

He understood now why Tatara was drawn to her: he was the kind of person who was attracted to power in all shapes and forms. The fact that he'd never won a game against her, and probably never will, Amon suspected, was enough to make Tatara respect her and maybe even love her for it.

"I'd like to leave now," Mika said, standing. "If that's alright with you."

Amon rose too and had a half mind to detain her, but he knew he couldn't, and somehow, he knew Mika knew that, too. "I'll show you the way out."

As they stood waiting by the elevators, Amon said, "He's ruthless, you know. He's killed twenty-three inspectors these past few months. Most of them had families."

Mika didn't say anything, choosing instead to stare straight into the metal halves of the door.

"It's true that your association with Tatara doesn't legally make you a criminal, but public perception is that birds of a feather flock together."

Mika turned to him with feigned surprise. "_Ara_, Amon-san, are you accusing me of being a murderer?"

It was Amon's turn to keep his silence.

Mika's eyes narrowed. "Or are you threatening the reputation of my father's teahouse with CCG's public influence?"

"The CCG can't influence public perception," Amon said, pokerfaced. "I'm not threatening you with anything."

The elevator door opened. Several inspectors walked past them, similarly haggard.

Their ride took them up a floor and released them into the atrium.

It was busier now. Receptionists were settling behind the counters and staff members were coming in through the revolving doors.

"Thank you for walking me out, Amon-san." She smiled at him and handed him a business card. "If you ever feel like it, stop by the teahouse with a friend. It'll be on us."

Amon nodded, pocketing the card. "I'll take you up on that offer," he promised.

He watched her cross the street and disappear into the nearest subway, all the while replaying their conversation in his mind.

Tatara had successfully orchestrated the capture of wards five to twenty-three for Aogiri. No matter what they'd thrown at him, he'd proven unstoppable. It was only a matter of time before Tatara re-rallied his forces to attack the third ward. Information from Mika would be the only way to defend the rest of the city.

Back in his office, Amon flipped the business card over and over in his hand.

"Amon," Kuroiwa said, knocking on his door. "Some papers for you to sign." He placed them on his desk and rocked back on his heels. "You doing anything Saturday?"

Ever since his divorce, he'd been eager to get out of his apartment during the weekends. And for some reason, Amon could never say no to him.

"Saturday?" Amon tossed the business card down. It glided across the polished wood of his desk and stopped before it could go over the edge.

Kuroiwa squinted down at it to make out the words.

Amon smiled. "How about some tea?" 

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Leave a review if you liked it :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 — Mika**

The first time Mika met Tatara, he'd been standing cluelessly at the cash register of the teahouse, peering past the tables into the rock gardens outside.

"Can I help you?" Mika asked, a wooden tray in her hands. Atop of it was a clay pot of tea. A tendril of steam coiled lazily out of the spout.

"I'd like somewhere to sit," he said, so quietly Mika could barely hear him.

"Well, I can seat you inside at that table over there. Or I can seat you outside on the raised porches of the garden. But you'll have to turn off your cellphone and speak quietly." Mika smiled. "You probably won't have a problem with the latter."

Tatara followed her outside, crossing an arched wooden bridge where koi fish flickered below. Closer to the garden, he heard the rustle of Go pieces and the gentle _tak_ as they made contact with the board. Beyond that, he could see a second rock garden and individual rooms for private tea ceremonies.

Mika stopped at the only empty table and laid the menu down. "Just press this button when you're ready to order. I'll be coming back this way once I've delivered this tray. Will you be by yourself?"

"A friend agreed to meet me here to play Go."

"Then I'll set your table for two. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable."

She took his order when she came back around. He'd wanted green tea and nothing else, so she went back to the prep station and put two tablespoons of ryokucha leaves into a clay kyushu and poured in water measured at 80 degrees Celsius.

When she went back to Tatara, the water had cooled to 70 degrees, the perfect serving temperature for _sencha_, although Mika doubted he'd understand the intricacies of its preparation, having said "any green tea" when asked what kind he'd like.

"The Go set is stored under the table," Mika told him. "There are drawers on each side with pieces."

When it neared closing time and Mika was cleaning the last of the tables, she saw him sitting there still, cold tea cup between his hands, staring out at the rock garden. She wanted to tell him there was a compartment in the table he could slide open to reveal a heat pad that would keep his tea warm.

Instead, she said, "I guess your friend didn't come." The cup opposite him was dry and untouched.

"He couldn't make it."

She lowered herself onto the seat across from him. "I can play a round with you if you'd like."

Tatara turned to her slowly, and Mika, really seeing him for the first time, noticed that his eyes were steel grey.

He set the pieces.

Twenty minutes into the game, it was clear who'd won. She'd expected his expression to grow more sullen. Perhaps he'd even get angry. Instead, she was surprised to see a faint smile on his lips.

"Again," he said after he'd admitted defeat.

Mika nodded okay even though she still had to wipe down the kitchen and buy groceries tonight to cook dinner for herself. There was still another pair near them anyway finishing up a round.

And besides — she glanced at him — she felt comfortable around this guy.

What did he say his name was again? Totoro? No, Tatara.

As they both cleared the board, their hands brushed over each other's. Mika felt heat rising in her cheeks and ducked her head a little. She didn't blush prettily. It came in red, uneven patches that looked similar to hives.

Mika looked up to see Tatara staring at her. He seemed puzzled by her reaction.

"Loser goes first," she said.

He placed his first piece down and looked at her again, as if trying to decide whether she was having an allergic reaction.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked.

"I'm fine. Just the pollen in the air..."

It was winter.

He made his next move, and Mika could see his lips twitch as he fought back a smile.

She defeated him soundly, mercilessly in this round, and while Tatara stared at the board, still trying to wrap his head around what'd happened, Mika rose from her seat. "It's closing time. I still have to tidy up the kitchen, so you can stay, but you'll have to settle your bill first."

The other two customers had already gone.

"I'll go back inside with you," Tatara said.

Mika moved to gather the tea ware on his table, but his hand stopped hers.

"No, let me."

She pulled away, feeling the heat rise in her face again. But he didn't seem to notice this time, perhaps too preoccupied with separating the Go pieces and sweeping them back into their drawers.

So Mika walked across the raised porch, slightly angry at herself and completely mortified that a single person had that much of an effect on her.

What was it about him anyway that made her react like this? If _that _was the way he played Go, then he was dumb as a rock.

Mika stopped herself. Actually, he was quite good. She was just better, having played since childhood. Her father, who loved the game more than he loved life itself, was a national campion himself and taught her everything he knew.

Or maybe it was because he was tall.

Being five-eight and slightly stocky (the "athlete build," her father called it), Mika had a hard time finding a guy who could come to terms with her height when it was all about chibi and kawaii things now. But someone like Tatara with broad shoulders, and who stood an entire head taller than her, probably wouldn't mind she was "too tall" or too... atheletic.

While she was wiping down the counters inside, he came in bearing a wooden tray of his things. He set it down at the table nearest her and drank the rest of his tea, glancing over a copy of the newspaper someone had left behind.

When she'd finished cleaning, Mika called out from behind the register. "Um... I do have to get back home at some point..."

It was ten at night, an hour after closing time.

"Sorry for making you stay late."

"That's okay. I only live three blocks away."

"I'll walk you home," Tatara volunteered.

"That's okay," Mika wanted to say again, but he was already leading the way outside.

A blast of cold air hit them, and she quickly threw on her scarf. In contrast, Tatara was in the same T-shirt and jeans he'd walked in with. It was ten degrees outside and unlike the teahouse garden, there were no stoves and heat lamps warming up the place.

"Aren't you cold?"

"No, my body runs hot."

Mika glanced down at his flip flops.

They settled into a comfortable pace, and Mika, who'd been ill-prepared for the sudden dip in temperature, gathered her thin jacket tightly around herself. At the same time, she huddled closer and closer to Tatara, who did indeed seemed to be able to keep warm even as wave after wave of icy wind washed over them.

"How did you get so good at Go?"

"My father is crazy about the game. When I took my very first step, he celebrated by putting a Go piece in my hand. I've been playing since."

"Care to give me a few pointers next time I come by?"

"Sure. You can sure use them," Mika said, chuckling.

"I'd be offended, but you did beat me pretty badly."

"Twice."

"Oh, so we're keeping score now?"

Mika had been on her feet all day. The teahouse opened at five AM. Her feet had been hurting, but walking and talking with him, the pain had mysteriously passed, as though he possessed some kind of healing aura that cured anyone within his personal space.

By the time they were on block number three, she was pressed close against him, shivering.

"This is me," Mika said at the foot of her apartment complex, and turned to look up at him. "Thanks for walking me home."

Against a dark backdrop, she saw the first snow of the season fall in puffs of white. Some of it landed on top of his head, disappearing into his white hair.

He leaned down and kissed her.

Around them, the snowfall grew heavier, illuminated by the streetlights overhead.

When he broke away, he said, "There's no pollen in the winter."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. The heat from his lips had been searing against her ice cold ones.

People like Tatara were the kind Mika envied. They were able to do things without over-thinking it, and that was a talent in itself. Because life, she suddenly realized standing before him, wasn't a turn-based strategy game, and unlike in Go, opponents and opportunities would never give her enough time to make the "right" move.

She leaned into his second kiss.

So maybe it was okay sometimes to let go and just do what felt right, 'Even,' she thought amusedly, 'If it was with a stranger who sucked at Go.'

* * *

**A/N: I just had a horrible thought: _what if _underneath that mask, Tatara has fish lips or a huge overbite? Would you guys continue reading this fic? I sure wouldn't haha... (Ishida-sama, please don't screw me over by drawing Tatara disfigured -_- I'd lose the few readers I have).**

**Anyway, hope you liked this chapter! Next one, we'll see this incident from Tatara's point of view.**

_Chapter 3 preview: She'd smelled delicious, the aroma of her flesh wafting into his nose in delicate tendrils. It was why he'd stayed past closing time. It was why he'd offered to walk her home. All so he'd have a chance to drag her into a dark corner, snap her spine in two, and feast upon her spasming corpse._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 — Tatara**

She was asleep, the covers pulled tightly underneath her chin. He was close enough to see each of her individual eyelashes, which she'd once complained were too short.

Throughout the night, Mika had huddled closer and closer to him and put her ice cold feet between his calves to warm them up.

He never understood how she could get so cold so quickly. But according to her, it was he who was unnaturally hot.

Tatara didn't need to look at the clock on her side of the bed to know that in about half an hour, Mika's eyes would slowly open without the aid of an alarm. She would yawn, mutter a drowsy "good morning" to him, burrow deeper into her covers, and sleep for another ten minutes before she sat up to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

He wondered if that internal snooze button was something she did consciously.

He wondered a lot of things about her, like what she dreamed about at night, whether she resented not being able to have a proper meal with him, or how much it bothered her that he murdered humans.

But there were just some things she'd never let him know.

That went for him as well. He would never tell her that the first time they'd met, he'd wanted to make a meal of her. She'd smelled delicious, the aroma of her flesh wafting into his nose in delicate tendrils.

It was why he'd stayed past closing time. It was why he'd offered to walk her out. All so he'd have a chance to drag her into a dark corner, snap her spine in two, and feast upon her spasming corpse.

But, while walking her home, his desire to eat her lessened with each dark alleyway they passed. If he ate her, he'd never see her ridiculous, patchy blush again, never hear her voice, and, most importantly, never again witness her intellectual prowess at work.

So he evoked the kind of self-control that was elusive to lesser ghouls and walked her all the way home. And when Mika looked up to thank him, he'd kissed her as a small reward to himself. Because after an entire month of not eating anything at all, it'd taken an enormous amount of self-restraint, and he was convinced he at least deserved that much from the woman he'd spared.

He'd also never tell her this: the first time they'd slept together, Tatara had bitten her on the lip and apologized, saying it was an accident.

But he hadn't been sorry, and it hadn't been an accident at all. He wanted desperately to sample her.

As he pushed in and out of her, the taste of her blood was in the back of his thoughts. It remained there even as he rose to a climax, even after he came. And there it will remain, like a reminder that the woman he fell in love with was different from him, that one day, either one of them will have to succumb to the other's way of life.

Digging into someone's stomach for the kill, tearing bodies apart and burying his face into flesh was just as intimate a connection as was sex. And at times when their limbs were intertwined, their breaths mingling, their bodies moving in rhythm together, it took all of Tatara's mental acuity to maintain that having sex and having a meal were two separate things, that he shouldn't bite into her neck, that he shouldn't pry her ribcage open to devour her insides.

It was tiring. This constant concealment of what he really was.

And so three months into their relationship, on a day when he was sleeping over at her place, he'd told her everything.

He'd expected her to bolt from the apartment in her pink pajamas. Instead, she slowly sat on the edge of her side of the bed and said "oh" in a dazed sort of way.

Tatara brought himself out of his reverie when he felt her stir next to him. As expected, she mumbled a "good morning" and closed her eyes again as if she'd been sleep talking.

He smiled a little. It made him happy he knew her so well.

Ten minutes later, she was awake. By then, Tatara had already brushed his teeth and washed his face. Now, he was pulling on clean clothes.

Today, they were going iceskating on one of Mika's rare days off.

"Ready?" she asked after she was done washing up.

Tatara nodded and they rode the elevator down to the first floor. Through the front doors, they could see handymen wrapping outside trees and lampposts with Christmas lights.

"I remember you telling me," Mika said after they'd ducked into the subway, "That you like the Christmas season. You said you enjoy seeing the lights."

Tatara nodded. "My parents used to take me to the heart of this city to see them."

He had only mentioned it in passing last year, and so Tatara wondered what else Mika remembered about him, because he could be pretty talkative in her company sometimes.

As they boarded the train, Tatara began taking inventory of the small things he knew about Mika.

"You're quiet today," she remarked when they reached their stop.

"I'm counting all the things I know about you."

She laughed. "_All_ the things? Is that possible?"

"I mean the small things, like what you like to eat, what your favorite color is."

"And what _is_ my favorite color?"

Tatara grinned. "Trick question. You don't have one."

They ascended the stairs back up to ground level and were greeted by a commotion just ten paces from the entrance of the subway.

Four men were kicking an old man around on the ground, blows driving mercilessly into his head and ribs. Upon closer inspection, Tatara saw that the geezer had a kakugan.

It seemed like the old man could sense he was one of them. He looked up, toothless mouth open in a silent cry, jittering hand reaching out towards him. Tatara almost stepped in to stop the abuse.

But at the last second, he remembered who he was with, and, shielding Mika from the sight, walked past him without a second glance.

* * *

When One-Eye called a meeting of all Aogiri executives, it'd been after a week of complete silence. They still needed a viable strategy for moving into third ward, having not agreed on one in past meetings.

"That's it?" One-Eye said after they seemed to have exhausted all options. "No other strategies?"

A thick silence hung over the crowd. A few ghouls glanced Tatara's way.

The number of Aogiri's executives had doubled in the past years, a good majority of the newcomers the SS ghouls they'd freed from the prison three years ago.

"We don't attack third ward," Tatara said suddenly.

Now everyone was looking at him. The ensuing silence seemed heavier now.

"We attack the second."

One-Eye turned to him slowly. "And why would we do that?"

"Because they won't expect it. For the past two years, we've been taking over wards in sequential order. Think about it: the bulk of CCGs military force will be waiting in arms at third ward while we mobilize into second. It'll be over in minutes."

There were murmurs of agreement.

"Besides," Tatara continued, "Ever since the ward number rearrangements, taking over second ward will position us between first and third, splitting them into two smaller, isolated islands. Nothing would be more advantageous for us."

"Did you learn that strategy from your Go-playing fuck toy?" Ayato sneered.

These past few months, Ayato had been trying to provoke both Noro and Tatara into power plays. The fact that neither of them were ever baited into engaging with him only seemed to make his jabs more frequent and vicious.

"All of you can go for now," One-Eye said. "Not you, Tatara," he added when he saw him turning to leave.

Tatara stayed behind, watching the others trickle out of the room.

When the door squealed shut with the last person, One-Eye sighed and took off his mask. His dark eyes bore into Tatara's steel grey ones.

"I've heard all sorts of things about natural ghoul hybrids being impossible. But here I am, evidence of the contrary. Do you know how my human mother kept me alive during the pregnancy?"

Tatara maintained his silence. 'What has this got to do with anything?' he thought.

"She ate human flesh."

One-Eye turned his mask over in his hand. "If this... relationship with Mika goes on, either one of you will eventually have to make the ultimate sacrifice — leave the world you know to live it out in the other one."

"Don't you think I've thought of that? Sometimes it's all I think about."

One-Eye nodded contemplatively. "At this stage, we can bench you during the takeover of wards one to three and still manage to pull victories. The ghouls are winning. And not just in Tokyo. If you really want a future with her, it's in your best interest to stop _thinking_ and just _convince_ her to come to our side."

Tatara removed his mask, too, and rubbed his mouth contemplatively. Of all the things he did know about Mika, that was one thing he was unsure of. Would she be open to the idea of coming to their side?

"I'll have her turned into a hybrid."

Tatara looked at him.

"But the offer expires the moment we secure all of Tokyo. I don't want her turning to us just because we've won. And she'll have to understand that once she's a hybrid, she'll have to consume human flesh. My mother loved me enough to do it. Does Mika love you enough to do the same?"

Tatara stared ahead unblinkingly as One-Eye made for the exit. Before passing him, he clasped a hand over Tatara's shoulder. "Have Mika think it over. Remember to tell her there's a deadline."

The hollow echoes of One-Eye's footsteps resounded in the cavernous hall. Before he turned out of the room, he added, "And Tatara, brilliant idea. Mobilize your troops south of second ward into fifth to prepare for an attack. We'll crush the CCG in one fell swoop."

...

...

**A/N: I really wish Tatara would have major parts in the manga soon. Nobody seems to know who he is :(**

**Anyway... thank you to all my lovely reviewers! I appreciate and treasure each and every review. They make my day and keep me writing! ^_^**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 — Amon**

There was an overcast Saturday morning that mirrored Amon's mood. In a month, Tatara's forces will have rallied for another attack, and one way or another, he was going to have to get Mika to spill some Aogiri secrets. Ghouls were already mobilizing to be in proximity of the third ward.

Marude had asked Amon what the ghouls were planning in the third ward, what their activities were, but no one really knew — the undercover agents they sent in last week were all sent back to CCG headquarter doorsteps without their bodies. Painted in blood before the cluster of eyeless heads were the words "_gochisousama."_

One month to convince Mika to tell him everything she knew about Tatara and what he was up to.

One month.

"The teahouse will be about a half mile walk from here," Amon told Kuroiwa when they emerged from the subway. He double checked the navigation on his phone to make sure.

"So. Tea, huh? Never would've thought," Kuroiwa said, glancing at him.

"What _did_ you think?"

"Whiskey. Or bourbon."

Amon laughed.

The teahouse was full when they arrived, and Mika was nowhere to be seen. There was a harried looking man in a yukata uniform with a tray of used utensils in his hands.

"Welcome," he said. "Will it be a table for two?"

Amon redirected the conversation. "We're looking for Ms. Hinamori. Is she here today?"

"She's in the back. Should I get her for you?"

Amon said yes, and stood near the register with Kuroiwa. Moments later, Mika emerged from the back — Amon squinted.

_Was_ it Mika? She looked different in traditional clothing. More... appropriate.

In this age of wide, doll-like eyes, surgically refined noses, and bleached blonde hair, Mika's features weren't considered pretty anymore. They were outdated, her beauty (if it could be called that) as traditional as the teahouse she operated.

"Amon-san." She looked caught off-guard. "I didn't expect you so soon. I wish you would've told me in advance. I would've reserved a table for you."

"It seems like we came at a good time: a pair of your guests are leaving." Amon gestured to the gardens outside, where two middle-aged women were rising from their seats. "We could take their table if you don't have customers lined up before us."

Mika wasn't particularly good at hiding her expression. Amon noticed her wrestling her lips into a forced smile. "Of course. I'll get you set up. Please follow me."

When her back had turned to him, Amon's brows pulled together in confusion. She'd been the one to invite them, so why did it seem like she'd rather set the place ablaze than seat them at their table?

Sudden realization put a hitch in Amon's step, and he had to force his feet forward. There could only be one reason why she was so uncomfortable with their presence at the teahouse: Tatara was here.

Amon was now very aware of the weightlessness in his right hand. His quinque wasn't with him. Neither was Kuroiwa's.

Amon lagged five paces behind her, forcing Kuroiwa to do the same.

"What's wrong?" Kuroiwa asked quietly.

"Tatara. He's here."

Kuroiwa's wide eyes darted restlessly in their sockets. "How do you know?"

"She doesn't want us here right now. Said it was a full house. Didn't even offer to check if there were available seats outside. She wants us out of here as quickly as possible."

"Her? That's the girl we're investigating? You brought me here on a _job_?"

"Please," Amon scoffed under his breath. "Did you actually think I liked specialty teas? It's whiskey, by the way. In case you can't think of what to get me for Christmas."

Mika stopped at their table and laid out their menus for them. "Why don't you take a look? I have to deliver this check and I'll be back to take your order."

She went not much further into the garden when Amon saw her stop at one of the tables. There sat a stooping, ninety year old bald geezer who looked like he needed an oxygen tank, and another person with short, white hair, broad shoulders, and the posture of a man in his prime. They were both busy over a game of Go.

Amon saw her lay the check down without so much as a glance. Kind of rude, he thought, before realizing she didn't want to look like she was lingering.

But her brusqueness had the opposite effect on Amon — it made him suspicious.

"That's him," Amon said, gesturing subtly with a tilt of his head.

Kuroiwa was silent, because he'd drawn the same conclusion even though they could only see the back of his head.

Amon watched Tatara glance at the check, then slowly turn around to look over his shoulder at the both of them. Their gazes met for only a second before he returned his attention to the game. It was done so inconspicuously Amon wasn't sure if he was just getting rid of a crick in his neck.

"He knows," Kuroiwa said.

Amon could hear the strain in his voice. Tatara's ruthlessness was unprecedented, and it wouldn't surprise him if he decided to jump at this opportunity to take them both out right here and now when they were weaponless.

Amon looked down at the menu, pretending to study it. "He's not going to do anything. Not while Mika's here."

"Do you think he cares? We're two of CCG Tokyo's best. He won't let this chance slip by."

Amon considered it. If the situation were the other way around and Tatara, for some reason, couldn't bring out his kagune, Amon wouldn't hesitate to behead him right here, right now.

Teahouse patrons be damned.

The thought sent a chill down Amon's back. Tatara had the winning hand, and all he had to do was lay down his cards. What's to stop him from doing it? If they died here CCG Tokyo would be left severely crippled, limping along like a wounded gazelle until the rest of Aogiri descended upon it like the predators they were.

Mika came back to take their order. They called for two cups of matcha and a plate of mixed _wagashi_ to go with it.

Both orders came to their table in what Amon could only assume was record time. Mika really didn't want them sticking around.

When they were halfway through with their cups of matcha, the _wagashi_ virtually untouched, they saw the old man rise shakily to his feet.

Tatara stood as well. His Go opponent patted him on the back twice, laughing a dry, hacking laugh, the only kind of laugh that was appropriate for his age.

Tatara looked slightly dismayed.

He'd lost, Amon conjectured.

The old man left, leaving Tatara to sit back down and analyze the finished game. After several moments, he cleared the board, sorting the pieces back into the drawers on either side.

This time when Tatara stood up, he took his cup of tea with him and moved in their direction.

Underneath the table, Amon's hands balled into fists, and his body wound so tight it began aching with tension.

Tatara stopped before them. "Is this seat taken?"

"No," said Amon, looking for the slightest hint in his posture that would suggest an attack was coming.

Kuroiwa stared ahead unblinkingly as Tatara lowered himself onto the wooden chair.

It was silent, the tall firs surrounding the teahouse complex blocking out most of the city noise. The silence and tranquility of the garden was a haven for customers from the city bustle, but under Tatara's stare, it was beginning to turn eerie, much like the stark stillness found in cemeteries.

'What does Mika see in this guy?' Amon caught himself thinking. 'Does she really want to wake up to this face every morning?'

"Mika tells me she's visited your headquarters recently," Tatara said. "I thought the meeting with her was to lay things to rest: you were to understand the teahouse was not to be harassed anymore by the CCG."

"She invited us over for a cup of tea."

Tatara's eyes bored into Amon. "Yet you come here smelling of intent and purpose. It doesn't take a ghoul's intuition to know it's not just a cup of tea you're after."

Tatara leaned forward. Kuroiwa's arms jerked reflexively into a defensive stance, the reaction driven purely by fear.

Even though it'd happened months ago, the memory of seeing a comrade torn apart by Tatara was obviously still searingly fresh in Kuroiwa's mind. Tatara hadn't even needed to bring out his kagune to kill that veteran investigator. In fact, none of them had the faintest idea what his kagune might be.

But Mika could tell them.

"The reason you two aren't a bloody _pulp_ in my hands by now," Tatara said quietly, "Is because Mika is still here. If I were you, I'd finish your tea before she finishes her shift. Once her foot crosses the threshold of that front door and you're still within spitting distance of this teahouse, I will tear the both of you _limb_ from _limb_, and sprinkle your bloody remains onto the floor of the CCG lobby."

His voice had gone barely above a whisper, but Amon felt the full force of the threat behind his words bludgeoning against them like a battering ram against stain glass windows. And like glass, Amon could see Kuroiwa's confidence in fragmented shards before him.

"Mika's very important to me," Tatara continued. "As a ghoul, protecting her life and protecting her territory are one and the same. Come after me on the battlefield, but leave friends and loved ones out of this. You don't see me going to your home to have a sit in with your wife and daughter, do you?"

Tatara had directed the question at Kuroiwa, who began blinking furiously, as if he had something in his eyes. It was a nervous twitch, Amon knew, and he'd seen it happen once when Kuroiwa was delivering a presentation before all twenty-four heads of the CCG branch offices.

Tatara's eyebrows lifted slightly in question. "Should I?"

The muscles in Kuroiwa's jaw flexed angrily as he looked down at his white knuckled fists. He muttered a shaky "No."

Tatara turned away from Kuroiwa, his eyes locking onto Amon's again as if to drive his point home. Then, he rose to his feet and made his way back to his table.

Amon felt his stomach clench. It wasn't fear that he felt now. It was anger. Three years ago, first ward was uninhabitable by ghouls. Now one had just threatened them on their own turf. He gritted his teeth. His vision was beginning to tint red.

This was unacceptable. They'd let it get too far, been too lenient on the ghouls from the outset. It was time to take control of things. First ward wasn't and never will be ghoul territory. If playing dirty was what it took to win this war — his eyes flickered towards Mika — then that was exactly what he was going to do.

* * *

**A/N: OHHH it is _on_ like donkey kong! **

**Seriously, Amon needs to take a chill pill. He can be way too intense sometimes. **

**But I like that :) **

**Anyone seen episode 7 yet when he was working out? Mmfff...! *_* /fangirling. It's enough to make me consider a love triangle. All in favor say "aye."**

G.R.: (I'm guessing your initials stand for "guest reviewer" haha..) Wow, thank you so much for the nice things you said. I wasn't too sure about the set up for the story in the beginning, but it didn't turn out too bad, so I just stuck with it. Glad I did :) And thank you for catching that error. I never would've on my own.

Scipio96: YESS! Naruto episode 101 was exactly what inspired it. Ishida-sama could ruin this fic for me with one drawing of mask-less Tatara with fish lips. But like you, I'm guessing (_praying_) that's not how he's going to look like. Hopefully on the 1-10 bishounen scale, he's a 100 without his mask. (I mean... let's not get greedy here, right?)

xJasmin3x: I really do want to write more fluff, but it's so hard to get right sometimes. Maybe I'll have it in as a bonus chapter in the future.

* * *

_Chapter 5 preview: ... the ease with which he'd inflicted pain onto someone was something she could never understand. It made Mika realize that perhaps they were too different; perhaps the gulf between their worlds too vast to traverse, and that perhaps they'd been fools to try._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 — Mika**

On a particularly busy day, Mika received a call just minutes after her shift ended.

It came when she was changing out of her uniform in the locker room, perhaps at the worst possible time — she'd just gotten her head stuck in the sleeve of her loose-knit sweater, and was desperately trying to claw her way out of it.

She was the kind of person who could never let a call go to voicemail, so with her head still stuck in the sleeve, five inches of the end drooping off the top of her head, Mika grabbed her phone from her bag and squinted through the loose knitting to see who it was.

Private number.

Mika frowned. It didn't take long at all to figure out who this call was from: the CCG. Most likely, it was Special Investigator Kotarou Amon. It'd been nearly a month since his surprise visit to the teahouse, and though she was no longer on edge about it, it was constantly on the back of her mind.

"Hello?" she said.

"Ms. Hinamori, this is —"

"I know who this is, Amon-san. What can I help you with?"

There was a pause on his end. "I'd like to have a chance to speak with you. Outside of CCG. Off the record."

"To be honest, I don't want anything to do with the CCG. Never did in the first place. Ironically, that's what made me to go to CCG headquarters to stop the harassment on my business."

"Where are you right now? I think I'm getting bad reception from your end. You sound muffled."

"My head's stuck in a sleeve."

A momentary silence of confusion oozed out of the speakers. If he were a manga character, Mika imagined he'd be sweat-dropping right now.

"Look, Amon-san. I'm not trying to be difficult. But unless you're going to arrest me on some kind of charge, I'm not speaking with anyone from CCG. I hope that's clear. I have to go now. It's getting hard to breathe."

"Wait—"

She hung up.

"Uh... what're you doing?"

Mika whirled around to see Tatara standing under the doorway. She was still holding her phone to her ear.

"Having a conversation through the sleeve of my sweater," she said, wide-eyed. "What does it look like?"

He remained at the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Now that you know how weird I am, please don't break up with me."

He covered the distance between them with two, long strides and pecked her on the lips through the loose knit. "Trust me — it's not the weirdest thing I've seen you do." He helped her out. "Genius on the board, but in real life, you can't put on a sweater right." Tatara chuckled.

She liked his laugh. He didn't do it often, but when he did, it was deep and from the back of his throat, the kind that wasn't heard, but felt.

"Why are you here today?" Mika raked her fingers a few times through her mussed up hair. "I thought I told you I was going to meet up with you at the park after I'd visited my dad."

"Yeah, I remember that. I want to go with you this time."

Tatara had never wanted to visit her father before. She thought it was a ghoul thing, that perhaps they tried to limit their connections with as few people as possible.

But if that was the case, then Tatara oftentimes did a lot of very unghoul-like things. Once in a while, he'd pray at shrines with her even though he didn't believe in that kind of stuff. And most puzzling of all, he often asked what food tasted like — the takoyaki balls at the festival, the strawberry ice cream from the convenient store.

She'd said "sweet," and wondered if Tatara even knew what that meant, or, if he did, whether their understanding of the word "sweet" was the same.

It was raining today, so they ducked under an umbrella and flagged down a taxi. Mercifully, they caught one just as the light drizzle escalated into a downpour.

"I told my father you played Go," Mika said, once inside the taxi. "He might want to have a game with you."

"Did you tell him how bad I was?"

"Doesn't matter. He'll enjoy crushing you all the same." She uttered a rather villainous laugh.

Smiling a little, Tatara said, "I can see similarities between the two of you already."

Mika leaned her head against his shoulder. "He can be a little difficult sometimes. But once he gets to know you, he'll soften up a bit."

"I hope... he likes me," Tatara said haltingly, then looked away. Mika could see from the thin reflection of the car window that he was a little embarrassed at how unsure he'd sounded.

She was about to say something that would put him at ease, but they'd arrived at their destination, and the moment to say it had passed. They got out of the car, and Tatara followed a few paces behind her to the hospital's main entrance. Just before he entered the building, he froze mid-step, foot hovering over the threshold.

The automatic glass doors slid shut between them, him on the outside, Mika on the inside.

She looked at him questioningly through the glass, and wondered if he was put off by the smell of death and illness that must be lingering in the air. "Come on," she said, tugging him forward by the hand. But with the resistance he was putting up, she couldn't get him to move.

"We should... come back another time," he said.

She sighed, annoyed that he'd gotten her hopes up about wanting to meet his father, but backing out last minute. "If you don't want to go, that's fine, but I promised my dad I'd see him today. Maybe you can wait in the lobby area. The chairs are pretty comfortable, and I'll only be half an hour or so."

Mika released his hand and approached reception. Tatara stayed close to her, the tip of his shoes centimeters away from her heels. He positioned himself first on Mika's right when she was signing in, then swiveled around to her left.

The unease he exuded rolled off in waves.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked as they walked down hallways and turned corners. While he was usually vigilant, this was on an entirely different level.

Suddenly, Tatara reached out with a hand to stop her, gaze fixed on a man standing fifty meters away with a hood pulled low over his head. Mika saw two flints of red where his eyes should be, sharp and alluring like shards of ruby.

A daggered streak come flying towards her. She didn't have enough time to react. Didn't have time to scream.

Tatara leapt forward to take the blow through his chest. Whatever it was that had hit him erupted past his spine and stopped inches away from Mika. There was a pause, and in that terrible silence, she watched blood gather at the sharp tip protruding from his back until it fell with a gentle _pat-pat-pat_ onto her sneakers below.

She looked up from the wound and, voice quivering, said, "Tatara..."

He threw an arm back, sending blood splatters along the wall. "Stay away!"

Finally the first of the screams from bystanders came, washing over her in a frenzied haze.

Tatara tried to wrestle the kagune out, the hitch of his pained gasp lost in the sickening _squelch_ of tearing flesh and gore.

When another kagune arm shot out towards Mika, Tatara released his own with a roar, deflecting the blow with several bikaku tails, sending the enemy ghoul reeling.

As his enemy stumbled away to recover his footing, Tatara closed the distance in a flash and latched onto his ankle with his kagune, throwing him into the air. An onslaught of tails followed his ascent upward and pinned his body into a cluster of fluorescent lights above. Bulbs popped and glittering shards of glass shattered against the floor. An agonized cry split the air. Blood from the wounds rained down upon Tatara, coloring his white hair red.

"Don't look, Mika!"

But she couldn't look away.

Tatara lowered the ghoul's twitching body within arm's reach, and grabbed his hair, wrenching his head back so they were eye to eye. "Who sent you?"

The ghoul blubbered incoherently for mercy.

Tatara reached up with his kagune and tore a leg away, picking it off with the kind of cruel nonchalance someone would with butterfly wings.

Mika cried out.

The ghoul spasmed in pain, his screams echoing through the hall. Mika's voice was lost in it as she whimpered, "Tatara... p-please... You've won..."

"_Who_?" Tatara asked the ghoul again. "Tell me, and I'll make your death quick."

Another tail, thick as a boa constrictor, wrapped sinuously around the ghoul's other leg in an unspoken threat.

"Th-the... CCG!" he cried out in panic. "They told me you would be here! P-Please...!"

Tatara dropped him on the linoleum floor. Slowly with his forearms, the ghoul crawled for his torn away leg, leaving a thick streak of blood in his wake.

Tatara stood behind him, kagune positioned for the kill. Like he'd promised, he was going to make it quick, and Mika saw the pointed end of the tail hovering just inches from the ghoul's exposed kakuhou.

"Please, Tatara...," she said, quietly. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her hands flew to her mouth to stifle a sob so it wouldn't reach his ears.

But he'd heard it, and when he turned to her, it was with eyes she'd never seen before. Overhead, the lights strobed erratically, shadowing and illuminating the rivulets of blood running down his face.

"This is between ghouls," he said quietly, "And this is how it's done in my world."

Slowly, she approached him, her shoes crunching over glass shards.

From behind, Mika wrapped her trembling arms around Tatara, quietly pleading for him to stop, but knowing he wasn't hearing her. The ease with which he inflicted pain onto someone was something she could never understand. It made Mika realize that they were too different, the gulf between their worlds too vast to traverse, and that perhaps they'd been fools to try.

Even with her arms around Tatara, her cheek against his back, she'd never felt more apart from him. The warmth of his body, the familiar contours of his chest, the beating of his heart... they might as well not have been there at all.

Her mind wandered to the phone call she'd receive earlier from Amon, and now knew he was done playing nice. He'd orchestrated this encounter to show her the Tatara he knew, to show her that beneath the thin sheen of civility Tatara had worked so hard to polish and maintain in her presence, there lurked a pitiless monster he could never part with. Not even for her.

With willful defiance, Mika latched onto the fond memories she had of Tatara, but found her thoughts lost in a torrent of tortured screams and the terrifying silence that soon followed after it.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was a little difficult for me to write, because fighting scenes aren't my forte. Ugh... I hope it was passable at least.**

**I see Amon as one of those honorable, standup type of guys. But I also think his mission-driven and goal-oriented personality can make him play dirty sometimes. In that sense, he has a kind of monster lurking within him, too, though it takes a different and less obvious form from the one we see Kaneki struggling with all the time. That said, though, we all have our own "monsters" to fight, even ordinary people like Mika.**

**Anyway, over the weekend, I binge read Tokyo Ghoul all the way to the end. And where the manga stops makes me want to strangle an ostrich with my bare hands! I feel so unsatisfied. SO MANY unanswered questions. All I can say is, there'd better be a part two... or else I'm coming after you, Ishida-sama (with my ostrich) :O**

**So now that I know how the manga ended, this fanfic is officially AU — let's just pretend the Anteiku raid never happened :P**

Guest Reviewer: I hadn't intended for this fanfic to be AU, but I don't really have a choice seeing as how the manga left off. As for why Mado didn't accompany Amon to the teahouse, that'll be explained later on. And unfortunately, it's unlikely Kaneki's going to make an appearance. I just have no interest in writing main characters whatsoever XD

mssixteencandles: I actually don't mind reading overdone OCs (by that, I assume you mean Mary-sues...?), but I have this irrational fear of accidentally writing one haha... so thank you; your comment puts my mind at ease.

Scipio96: Oooh, that Ango person's a hottie! Just seeing him makes me want to read the manga, even though I have no idea what it's about. *Tootles off to Wikipedia*

1loveluffy: Hm... When I think of Mika, I have an image of Yu Aoi, a Japanese actress. She has such a quintessential Japanese look and this girl next door vibe that I can totally imagine for Mika.

noelswonderland: Omg. I am not worthy. Your comment meant a lot to me, and here's why: Over-explaining the wrong things is a bad habit of mine, and it's something I've struggled with for years. I think it has something to do with the fact that I grew up with Redwall books. The author of that series, Brian Jacques, would ramble on for paragraphs on the most minute of details. The writing style for this fanfic is a HUGE departure from what I've produced in the past, and I'm still training myself to just seriously chill out when it comes to putting in details where it's unnecessary. Thank you so much.

Shinjiro: Welcome aboard! The inner hentai in me (everyone has this, okay?! *shifty eyes* It's not just me) wants to write a lemon chapter SOOOO bad! But I want to keep this rated T. I _am_, however, thinking about doing a bonus lemon chapter and putting it on "an archive of our own." If it does go up, I'll announce it in an author's note.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 — Tatara**

The first thing Mika did was pull Tatara into the rain. Out by a small wing of the hospital, the downpour did its best to cleanse him, but the bloodstains were stubborn, and he was convinced the ghoul he'd just killed was doing his best to make things more difficult for him even in death. While it was okay against dark jeans and a black T-shirt, Tatara's silver-white hair still had noticeable streaks of dark red in it, the morbid kind that would turn heads if they were to walk through the streets. Mika made him lean forward to wash it off for him.

Tatara thought she'd never want to touch him again, and a part of him was convinced this was the last time, that this was some sort of final favor before she left him.

A clutch of fear throbbed in his chest, building into a barbaric impulse to grab her by the wrists and tell her she was his, that he was never going to let her leave him.

"Okay," Mika said when she'd gotten him clean. They took shelter from the rain just beside the side entrance where Mika had left her scarf so it wouldn't get wet. She used it to dry off his hair.

There was nothing but the roar of rain between them, occasioned by the wet _swooosh_ of car tires running through flooded gutters. While suffering her silence, Tatara wondered if they'd be at odds with each other if she'd been a ghoul herself.

Like many of his kind, violence came naturally to Tatara. He grew up with it, was swaddled in its arms before he could string two words together. It was as multipurpose and versatile as the scarf Mika was now using to dry off his neck. Besides using violence for deterrence and provocation, Tatara occasionally used it to compel obedience from underlings.

But he was never violent for the sake of being violent. Otherwise, he'd just be a mindless oaf like Yamori. And look how he'd ended up.

"Mika...," Tatara finally said, "Are we going to talk about this?"

She made a noise of frustration in the back of her throat, and knelt down to examine the bloodstain on her shoes. "I'm trying to forget about it."

"Well don't," Tatara said, more sharply than he'd intended. He knelt down as well. "Because it's going to happen again. If not this, then something else about ghouls you find repulsive. Like the fact that I need human flesh to survive." He placed his hand over hers when she looked away. "I sit through your meals even though the smell of it turns my stomach, so why don't you ever sit through one of mine? I try to understand your life, the way you live, but I don't see you doing the same for me. You seem to like everything about me but my ghoul side. You try to ignore it. You try to pretend it doesn't exist, but it _does_." Tatara tightened his grip over her hand, not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her feel it. "Right now, I need you to look at me."

Mika slowly lifted her eyes to his.

"You willfully ignore the things that make us different, and I keep some parts of myself hidden from you, because I know you won't like what you'll see. But that's wrong, isn't it? Because then it's not me you're having a relationship with; it's whatever watered down version of myself that you and I have created together."

He rose to his feet and helped her up, then held her close so he wouldn't have to look in her eyes when he said, "I want you happy, Mika. If I'm not the kind of man you can see yourself with, then it's best to say so and end it now."

Tatara could feel her wet hair through his T-shirt, and he wished he'd told her to take care of herself first before she'd started drying him off. After all, he didn't catch colds easily, whereas she was prone to bouts of sickness especially during wintertime.

His arms went tighter around her.

_Please don't leave me please don't leave me I can't love anyone else the way I love you you'd be ripping part of me away with you if you left please Mika you can't do this to me —_

She buried her face into his chest. "That person who was in there isn't who you really are; it's who the Aogiri needs you to be. I —"

"The Aogiri's a part of who I am. It's not something I can extinguish within me once it has accomplished its goal."

Mika pulled away and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, several kagune-tipped darts zipped through the air and struck Tatara's back.

As if on cue, two black armored vans fishtailed into the empty lot, tires screeching. CCG investigators in tactical gear poured out of the vehicles, suitcases at the ready.

But they were unnecessary — with the RC suppressor drugs pumping into his system, Tatara could barely stand on his feet as it was. He crumpled to his knees.

Mika sank to the ground to catch him before he could topple forward. Her arms cradled his head protectively, eyes wild with panic as dark figures approached them.

Doves pried Mika away, wrenching her to her feet. Through the shouting and _splish-splash_ of thundering footfalls, Tatara managed to catch the words "martial law" and "court marshaled." The fear and confusion in Mika's voice raised the fine hairs on the nape of his neck.

Through flickering vision, he saw her dragged to the van by two dark figures, their grips twisting into her arms. She fought back and threw an elbow into one of their faces.

Tatara felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. _'That's my girl,'_ he thought sluggishly, but the triumphant feeling lasted only a split second, up until the man retaliated by backhanding her across the cheek.

Then, despite the fact that he'd just been nailed with three doses of RC cell suppressors, Tatara rose to his feet, kagune bursting from his back. By the time they'd noticed, he'd strung two CCG officers through their throats, killing them instantly, and was now burying kagune tails into the dart gun shooters lingering in the back.

Several quinques came undone, and he heard Mika scream his name, but the sound was distant, garbled. He wasn't sure what she'd reacted to until he looked down and saw several stalagmite-like objects lodged in his body from an ukaku quinque.

Another round of darts came flying into him, bringing him back down to his knees.

Sitting on his heels, drained, Tatara couldn't even look up for a last glimpse of Mika being thrown into one of the vans.

While the rain drummed against the back of his head, undoing the work Mika had put into drying it, Tatara was suddenly filled with regret at his parting words to her. His brows knitted together as the bitter taste of loss lingered in the back of his throat.

**Amon**

Mika was assigned one of the nicer detention rooms. It had clean lines, white walls and a white sheeted cot. The monotony of the room could drive someone insane, Amon imagined. Through the camera feed, he could see her pacing the twenty by twenty cell right now.

She was thinking, Amon knew, and he reminded himself that someone who could easily set aside her confusion, anger, and fear like that to assess the situation wasn't just an experienced strategist, but what people would call a coldblooded mastermind.

He left the room of monitors and went two floors underground where Mika was being held.

"Special Investigator Koutarou Amon to see Hinamori Mika, cell number eight-seven-four."

He waited for the guard to log him in before he crossed checkpoint, polished shoes clicking against polished floors.

Observing her briefly through the one-way glass, Amon saw that Mika had already been changed into the detainees' garb: Matching loose shirt and pants whose colors were as insipid as the cell's surroundings.

Amon passed his badge over a reader beside her cell, enabling communication and deionizing the tinted glass so it was now two-way. She stopped pacing.

"I want my lawyer," Mika said softly, a mere foot away from the glass. Her doe-like eyes regarded him with an authority he almost believed she had.

"We can choose to deny you your rights to a lawyer under martial law. And that's exactly what we plan to do."

Mika smiled.

Amon blinked. He felt like he'd just walked into a trap, but wasn't sure what kind. _Was_ there even a trap? What was she up to?

Inwardly, Amon shook his head. Seconds in and she was already mucking around in his head.

"So you have me under your thumb now. What do you plan to do, Amon-san?"

"We believe you have information that could help us win the war. We'll do anything to get the truth out of you."

"Information's not going to help you win the war. What you need is a miracle."

_Traitor_.

"Miracles don't just happen; they're manufactured."

She seemed to be studying his expression, and Amon wondered if the disgust he felt towards her was manifesting itself on his face. Kuroiwa often told him he was terrible at hiding his emotions.

Mika took a step closer to the glass wall. "I wasn't kidding when I said it'd take a miracle. There's nothing I'd like more than to see the CCG triumph. But the CCG isn't showing any signs it might pull through, so why would I throw myself into a ship that's about to sink?"

"Maybe because you're human. Maybe because most of the people you care about are on that ship."

Mika placed a hand on the glass, her head hung slightly. "Tatara is... more than a good fighter. Sometimes, he loses on the board just to see what would happen, just to see what he can learn from it. It's his ability to apply what he's learned that makes him such a formidable opponent. Above all, it's his powers of adaptability — not fighting strength — that puts him head and shoulders above any investigator in CCG Tokyo. You shouldn't be wasting your time building better weapons and better soldiers. You should be thinking about how to outsmart him."

Amon shook his head dismissively. "We just need a fighting chance, Mika. You're the one who can give it to us."

Her hand fell back to her side. "Like I said, I don't want the ghoul takeover to happen, but my sentiments won't change anything, and neither will any of the intelligence you seem to think I can give you. But maybe this is how it's supposed to be. Maybe ghouls are the next step in the evolutionary phase, and the CCG's just delaying the inevitable."

"Pretty deterministic for someone who plays a game based entirely on free will."

"Life isn't Go. I don't base my personal philosophies on something that can fit in a box."

Amon took a step closer to the glass, too. He could see the faint reflection of his face floating above Mika's. "Just out of curiosity, Hinamori-san. Why Tatara? Why not someone human?"

Her head tilted slightly in question. "You mean someone like you?"

Smiling tightly, Amon replied, "Maybe not someone exactly like me. I've been told I make a terrible boyfriend."

Mika looked at him askance, then turned away, pacing to her cot and back again. "I know what you were trying to do by sending that ghoul to attack us."

"What _was_ I trying to do?"

"Play me against Tatara by showing me a side of him I never wanted to see, then locking me in here so I'd be alone with those thoughts, hoping it'd drive me to a breaking point until I finally betray him."

Amon smiled. "That's one theory."

"It's not a _theory_," she bristled, "it's a logical leap any _imbecile_ with half a brain would make." Mika closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose.

Amon guessed it was to get a handle over her emotions. When she opened her eyes again, he was surprised by how quickly she'd accomplished it, almost as if she'd turned off a switch. It made Amon wonder if this ability was what made her particularly suited to play Go — top-tier competitors all share the same capability of setting aside frustration, panic, and other emotions that crippled logical thinking.

"Seems like you're nearing that breaking point," he said, quietly.

Shrugging, as if her emotional outburst hadn't happened, Mika replied, "You'll be surprised how much I can handle. Go can nurture some of the dirtiest, most conniving strategists in the world. I would know — I've played them all." Mika placed both hands on the glass. "So if it's mind games you want... I'm game."

Amon's hand twitched at his side, and he steeled his gaze against hers. "Life isn't Go," he said, echoing her statement. "The stakes are higher, and so the things people are willing to do to get what they want, more terrible."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'd like to see how far you can carry out that threat, Amon-san. It better be soon, too, because _when_ Tatara breaks free and comes tearing through CCG headquarters, you better hope I'm not around to tell him what will be done to me."

* * *

**A/N:** **Two weeks after finishing Tokyo Ghoul, I'm still in the "****_now_**** what do I do with my life?" phase. Good thing I have this fanfic going on, although I have this evil urge to pull an Ishida and just end it on some ridiculous cliffhanger.**

**AkiYumie87**: Muahahahaha! Yes, I've convinced yet another to join the Tatara fancult — *cough* Did I say "cult?" I meant fandom.

**G.R.**: Speaking of horror genres, I'd started reading Gantz and am so into it right now. I love Deadman Wonderland and have heard good things about Apocalypse no Toride, so that might be another series I'll pick up soon as well.

**SeraSearaSpin**: You totally read my mind with foreign ghouls! I think it'd be unrealistic if there weren't any. I'd missed the hint that Tatara might be Chinese until I read comments from other people speculating that he was. I think the reason I missed it was because he has a Japanese name (it means "furnace" by the way!), so... is that an alias or what? Does he have a Chinese name? So many questions!

**blue and gold**: Okay, let me start off by saying, I _love _readers like you, because you notice what's being attempted in the writing process. You're spot-on for Tatara, and I'm overjoyed someone was able to pick up on what I'd tried to do (probably poorly XD) for his character. To answer your question, Akira might show up to... complicate things (let's just leave it at that), but since I haven't really decided which direction to take this story yet, I can't say for certain. I really enjoyed reading your review, and it's definitely not an exaggeration to say it made my day :D

* * *

**Next chapter preview:**

_"Are you volunteering yourself, Amon-san?" Mika asked, offhandedly._

_"Maybe. I like strong women, and if you'd like a boyfriend who's married to his work, then we're in business."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 — Mika**

Sleep deprivation wasn't considered a form of torture under Japanese law, but after seven days of it, Mika was beginning to think otherwise: it was a kind of starvation that transcended all physical hungers. The exhaustion and the brutal interrogations, which seemed to stretch into hours and days, had ground her willpower down into a pathetic stump. A haze was beginning to creep into Mika's mind, making coherent thoughts virtually impossible.

"Look at me, Hinamori-san," someone across the table said.

She didn't want to, seeing no reason to obey, but she raised her head anyway, slowly, because any faster and her world would begin to spin like a tilt-a-whirl.

Whose voice was that? It was so familiar. The face before her came into focus.

"We know you possess intelligence pertinent to the survival of the CCG and its affiliates," came Amon's clipped voice. It cut through the fog in her mind like a painfully bright shaft of light. "What can you tell us, Hinamori-san?"

"I don't know anything," she intoned. "Tatara tells me nothing."

"He must have let something slip in your company."

"He's careful about revealing anything that might incriminate me."

Looking at Amon, Mika suddenly realized he and Tatara were two very similar types of men. They had their differences, sure, but stripped to their cores, she could see Tatara in Amon, could almost imagine her lover peering out at her through those dark eyes.

Yes, she knew something about Aogiri that would help the CCG —Tatara planned to attack second ward before third, breaking the sequential pattern Aogiri had been following for the past five years. It was the last thing the CCG would expect. She didn't know when the Aogiri would strike, but when they do, it would be all over for the doves unless they knew what was coming.

"We're past this stage already, Hinamori-san. You admitted just hours ago to knowing something."

Mika tried to recall the past few hours, but couldn't. It was choked up in that haze. That... drowsy... dizzying... haze...

Her head drooped, and her eyelids fluttered shut.

A loud _crack! _jolted her awake.

Amon had slammed his hand against the table, and he was now on his feet, shouting down at her. He struck the light hanging between them, making the shadows leap and flicker violently across the walls. Then he shouted something else — louder — and she recoiled, adrenaline shooting through her veins, heart thrumming frantically against her chest like an exhausted marathon runner struggling to finish the last leg of the race.

"I don't know! I don't know!" she repeated, and the third time Mika said it, it caught on a sob, because she didn't see a light at the end of the tunnel, and she was starting to wonder what she was holding out for. Was there a relationship to go back to? Did Tatara still want her? Did she still want _him_?

He leaned his hands onto the table. "I'm trying to help, Mika. I have no control over what happens to you once you leave this room. Tell me what you know, and it'll save you from whatever they have planned next."

She looked down at her hands cuffed to a hook protruding from the center of the table. Yes, they were two very similar men, and it made her wonder if she could have fallen for someone like Amon had she not met Tatara first.

If she were with someone like Amon, her life could have been normal. It could have been peaceful. And she could have spent the rest of her days running the teahouse until she became as old as the patrons that frequented it.

It would have been boring. But it would have been safe.

_Normal._

A silence unfolded between them. Amon reached out to still the swinging light. "Why him? Why not someone human?"

He'd asked her that once already, but it was the way he said it this time that made Mika pay closer attention, because these were now words beyond mere curiosity. There was anger in his voice.

"Are you volunteering yourself?" she asked offhandedly.

Amon lowered himself slowly into his seat. "Maybe. I like strong women, and if you'd like a boyfriend who's married to his work, then we're in business. What do you say?"

Ordinarily, she would have taken that seriously, but in her sleep deprived delirium, Mika saw it as the joke that it was and laughed wearily. "Well, I don't know. Can I sleep on it?"

Amon blinked and a fleeting smile crossed his lips. He opened his mouth to say something else, but someone came knocking.

When he opened the door, she saw Shinohara standing with hands akimbo. "It's time, Amon." He beckoned him out of the room, then unsuccessfully nudged the door shut with his foot. Through the tiny slit left in the doorway, Mika could hear them talking.

"Your method isn't working, and we can't afford to waste anymore time. Arima's taking over, and he wants her in Cochlea."

"Human prisoners don't belong there."

"We're not leaving her in Cochlea, and she won't be documented as a detainee. The point is to get her to talk. Arima thinks she'll be more willing to do it in... an unstable environment."

* * *

Mika was escorted by two doves into the heart of Cochlea. On the way there, she'd fallen asleep in the back of an armored van, the kind they used to transport maximum security criminals. Whether it was out of kindness or pity, Amon had let her drift off, but the moment they'd arrived, he'd promptly shaken her awake.

Her hands remained cuffed as they made their way down the winding staircase. At the top levels where lower ranked ghouls were kept, there'd been a cacophonous symphony of shouting and banging and screaming. Further down where they housed high ranked ghouls, it grew oppressively quiet, the air chilled and stale.

"Tatara...," Mika said in disbelief when they stopped before his cell. He was sitting on his cot, hunched over, forearms braced across his knees. There was a strange fog hovering in his cell, and it didn't seem like he could hear them.

"That's the RC suppressor drug in aerosol form," Amon explained, following her gaze. "It comes every hour. The newest form he's breathing in depletes energy and accelerates hunger." He turned to the investigator assisting him. "You can head up first. I'll take it from here."

Once alone and out of earshot, Amon turned back to Mika again, who was doing her best to stay on her feet. "We've seen ghouls down here eat their own children because they simply couldn't stand the hunger. Tatara's not at that stage yet, but he will be soon. If you decide to talk, we'll let you out. If you decide not to, well... at one point, nothing's going to stop Tatara from tearing into you. That's just how ghouls are."

In one corner of the cell, Mika could see a huge blood splatter, like someone had exploded against the wall. Coming out from the side in a jagged, upward slash was what Mika could only assume was arterial spray from a punctured artery. On the ground were segments of entrails and the remains of a head smashed to bits. Hair — long hair — was swirled in with black bits of gore and bone like some kind of nightmarish hodgepodge used by Satanic worshippers.

Her throat suddenly felt very dry.

Amon handed her a radio device. "If you feel like talking, you can reach me on this. And —" he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was around. Then he reached into his pocket to pass Mika something else.

It was a switchblade, no doubt developed by CCG Laboratories.

"It's a tactical blade all CCG officers carry in the field. This one's mine." When she made no move to take it, Amon added, "Just to give you a fighting chance in case you really do decide not to talk."

Mika looked up at him. "'In case?' By giving this to me, aren't you saying you don't think I'll talk?"

"Mika, I've interrogated you for seven days without results. For most of that time, you couldn't even think straight. It's obvious what I believe: sleep deprivation, or death at the hands of someone you love... neither makes a difference to you — you're simply not going to sell Tatara out. But I also think it's a waste to throw your life away for someone who'd kill you for a meal. You deserve someone better than Tatara. I wish you'd see that." He helped her secure the knife against the elastic waistband of her pants, then let her shirt drift back down to conceal it.

Mika watched him un-cuff her before swiping his keycard into a reader. When it opened, Tatara's head lifted. At the doorway, she could see his eyes widen in disbelief at the sight of her. Her own eyes widened, too, because streaked across his face like warpaint was the blood of his last meal.

Behind her, the vault-like door groaned shut, followed by the ominous _click_ of the lock engaging. She watched Tatara's eyes track Amon warily as he walked away.

Mika approached him slowly, and tried to avoid glancing at the mess in the corner. The ventilation in here was good enough that she could hardly smell anything.

"Stop, Mika."

She halted mid-stride. Tatara rose to his feet and went to the opposite side of the room, then gestured at the cot, telling her to take it as he sank to the floor. His breathing was labored from the short walk over.

It was colder in here than it was outside of the cell. Mika sat on the cot and gathered the sheets, wrapping herself in his scent. The familiarity of it calmed her, evoked memories of tranquil mornings with the warmth of his body against her own and his arm holding her across the waist.

"Tatara—"

"Do you remember," he said, "the first time we met?"

"At the teahouse. You were waiting for a friend who never came."

"You smelled wonderful and I wanted to eat you, thought about how I'd do it, in fact, and planned to when I walked you home that evening."

Mika took it in silently.

"I was confused by how trusting you were even after I revealed what I was. You'd fall asleep with me at your side; you'd lead the way on shortcuts through dark alleyways with your back turned to me. The trust you had in me was intoxicating. All I've wanted since then was to prove that your faith wasn't misplaced."

A silence unfolded between them as they looked at each from opposite sides of the room. She wanted to close the distance between them.

"Amon-san," Mika finally said, "told me I can leave this cell anytime I wanted. All I'd have to do is tell him what Aogiri's planning next."  
Tatara drew up one knee and draped his arm over it, learning his head back against the wall. Like herself, Mika could tell he was utterly drained, but in an entirely different way, him starving for human flesh, her, for sleep.

Most CCG investigators were trained at a very young age to think ghouls were soulless monsters. But she didn't know Tatara as a monster. She knew him as someone who loved Miles Davis era jazz music. She knew him as a decent pianist, who often joked about making Noro learn the bass so they could form a jazz quartet.

Amon told her this world they were living in was wrong, but she disagreed — what was wrong was indiscriminately sweeping things under categories of good and evil with no middle ground. It was black and white beliefs like these, borne on the back of mindless fear, that created entities like the Aogiri Tree.

Mika revealed the switchblade and held it eye-level. "Amon-san gave this to me... to protect myself."

"For a straight-lace like him to break the rules, he must like you a great deal."

Another length of silence stretched between them.

"I wonder all the time if you'd ever leave me for someone like Amon," Tatara eventually said. "Sometimes, when I wake up without you next to me, I'd bolt up in bed only to realize you were in the bathroom washing up. I question if I could accept life without you, if I could ever make my peace with it.

"Since being with you, I don't remember what being with my own kind is like. You've swept all other women out of my memories. That's what you are, Mika, a freak typhoon that suddenly came crashing into my life. The truth is, I don't want you to leave me; the truth is, when this is all over, I want to spend the rest of my days by your side, sipping matcha under that teahouse sakura tree until we're both wrinkled and stooped over with age."

Overhead, through a set of holes in the walls, they heard hissing like a hundred hairsprays going off all at once.

As the fog thickened over them, her eyes flickered to the woman in the corner. What remained of her, anyway.

"Tatara," Mika said, her voice wavering. Her hand tightened over the switchblade.

He gestured with a tilt of his head. "That woman there... she'd been a prisoner on death row for drowning her own children. They sent her into my cell on the very first day because she looked a lot like you. Her name was Sachiko Fuganawa. I tried with every fiber of my being to stop myself from tearing into her. I asked questions to get to know her. To humanize her. In the end, I learned she liked Neapolitan ice cream, writing long poems, and watching sunsets. I also learned she missed her children dearly and felt the only punishment fit for her was to suffer a violent death. Hers was a tragic story. But even with my pity for Sachiko, I lost the battle and devoured her. I felt absolutely no regret when I tore into her neck and pulled her heart out through her stomach. It was only after I'd finished, after seeing what I'd reduced her to, that I realized there will never be another one like her ever again.

"But even knowing that, even knowing I'd killed a soul as unique as yours, I felt absolutely no remorse."

He rose to his feet and closed the distance, slowly, purposefully. "This hunger isn't something I can control, Mika. It erases who I am. _Resets_ me in a way that disappears my emotions. Seeing what I'd done to this woman who looked so much like you... So much..."

Tatara was standing before her now. Looking up, Mika could see that his eyes were hard, his mouth set in a grim slash.

Accepting her fate was easy, but it came with a bitter ache in her heart when she realized the hardship she had endured for him was something he couldn't seem to do for her.

So she closed her eyes and waited, hoping he loved her enough to make it quick.

* * *

**A/N: ****Sorry for the long wait guys. I've been so busy lately, but this story is always in the back of my mind. Not in a bad, nagging kind of way, but in a good way, like a place I can escape to for a few seconds whenever I get some downtime.**

**I haven't been getting much sleep lately, either, which is where the inspiration for sleep deprivation came from haha... It really is like torture, when you want to sleep, but can't. I imagine insomniacs have it hard o_o**

**Anyway, next update is likely to be a fluff chapter that contributes to the plot in absolutely no way at all. But I promise it won't take so long to update next time :)**

**blue and gold: **Okay. Is it weird that I get as excited as I do on Christmas mornings when I read your reviews? Seriously, thank you. Your review was so well thought out, and there's this way you interpret things that brings new dimension to the story. I feel so lucky just knowing you're reading this fic!

**LeonInuyuka: **All hail Tatara, our lord! D Don't worry, I'm most likely doing away with the whole love triangle thing, because I've realized I don't want it to be the main focus of the fic.

**LincoeAlisson3298**: I know! Well, there are definitely bad ghouls, but it makes absolutely no sense to me why they can't make distinctions between the bad ones and the good ones just like society does for good people and bad people. Smh.

**Blazing Inspirit: **Haha... sorry for scaring you! For sure Mika's going to be with Tatara. At most, Amon would probably angst away as the third wheel (sorry Amon XD).

**Megohime of Mutsu**: Aw... thank you! Your review is so encouraging! Yeah, I think the fact that Tatara isn't very well known is kind of putting people off this fic :( But he really stood out to me in the manga, which is why I decided to write this. Glad you decided to give it a try! ^ ^

**Tokyo Meow**: Here: *feeds your addiction* XD


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